by Satyajit Ray
‘Correct. He wanted to buy the necklace, didn’t he?’
‘He is an art collector. Any art collector would want to buy something so beautiful. That is to say, he’d want to buy if he had sufficient resources. If he didn’t, he might try to get it through unfair means. We know nothing about Sukius or his financial status. Let’s not waste any more time in idle speculation. We’re free until Mr Biswas rings us in the evening. What about a trip to Kaizer Bagh?’
‘Excellent idea, Felu Babu. If getting involved in a case meant going back without seeing all the important sights of Lucknow, I’d be very disappointed.’
Five
Jayant Biswas rang us later, as promised. The police had been meticulous in their search, but the necklace had not been found. They had even questioned the servants, to no avail.
‘I’ll come over, Mr Biswas,’ Feluda told him. ‘Now I’ll start my own investigation. It won’t clash with what the police are doing, I assure you.’
We took a taxi from the hotel, crossed the Gomti bridge and reached Mr Biswas’s house. It still wore a rather forlorn air.
Suleman opened the door once more and showed us into the living room. Mr Biswas was seated on a sofa. He rose as we entered the room.
‘They couldn’t find it,’ he said, shaking his head sadly.
‘That’s hardly surprising. A clever thief like that would never leave it lying about, would he?’
‘Would you like to search the house yourself?’
‘No, no. I only want to speak to everyone in your family. Who is at home right now?’
‘My wife, my daughter and Mr Som. I don’t think my son is back yet.’
‘I see. I also need to talk to Mr Saldanha and Mr Sukius.’
‘That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll give you their addresses.’
‘Very well. Let me start with you.’
‘Go ahead. You wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, would you?’
‘No, that would be very nice, thank you.’ Suleman was told to get four cups of tea. Feluda lit a Charminar and began his questions.
‘You told the police Mr Sukius had wanted to buy that necklace. How long ago was that?’
‘About a year ago.’
‘How did he learn about the necklace?’
‘Lots of people know about it. It’s been written about more than once. When my mother-in-law died, the Pioneer published a short biography which mentioned the necklace. Sukius is really a moneylender. I mean, that’s how he’s made his money. Normally, one doesn’t associate a moneylender with anything as refined as art and aesthetics. But Sukius is different. I have been to his house. He has exquisite taste.’
‘How did he react when you refused to sell the necklace?’
‘He was naturally very disappointed. He had offered two hundred thousand. I might have agreed, but my wife wouldn’t dream of parting with it. And now, the very same . . .’ he left his sentence unfinished and sighed.
‘Do you suspect anyone?’
‘No. I still feel perfectly amazed. I cannot believe one of my old and trusted servants did it. Yet, who else would have stolen it? Why would they do such a thing?’
‘You are a businessman, aren’t you?’
‘Well yes, I have a small firm. We handle exports and imports.’
‘How well are you doing?’
‘Not bad, Mr Mitter. I have a partner. We run the firm together.’
‘What’s he called?’
‘Tribhuvan Nagar. We began our careers as clerks in a merchant firm. Thirty years ago, we gave that up and formed our own company.’
‘What’s the name of your company?
‘Modern Imports & Exports.’
‘Where is your office?’
‘Hazratganj.’
Suleman came back with the tea. We helped ourselves.
‘I have one more question,’ said Feluda.
‘Yes?’
‘While the film was being shown yesterday, did you see anyone move or go out of the room?’
‘No.’
‘Does your son work anywhere?’
‘No. I tried to get him to join me, but he refused.’
‘How old is he?’
‘Twenty-five.’
‘What’s he interested in?’
‘God knows.’
‘Thank you, Mr Biswas. May I now speak to your wife?’
‘Certainly. But she’s very distressed, you understand.’
‘I promise I won’t take long.’
Mr Biswas went inside to fetch his wife. We had finished our tea by this time. When Suneela Biswas arrived, she looked as if she had spent a long time crying. Despite that, the resemblances she bore to her mother seemed more pronounced today. She said in a low voice:
‘You wished to ask some questions, I believe?’
‘Yes, only a few. I won’t keep you long.’
‘Very well.’
‘When your mother gave you her famous necklace instead of your elder sister, how did your sister react?’
‘She had guessed what my mother was going to do.’
‘How?’
‘She was my father’s pet, I was mother’s. She gave me that necklace three years before she died. My sister and I never spoke about it, so really I couldn’t tell you how she reacted.’
‘Are you and your sister close to each other?’
‘Yes. We’re getting closer as we’re growing older. When we were young, there was a feeling of rivalry between us.’
‘You were fond of acting, weren’t you?
‘Yes. That’s why my mother was so proud of me. Susheela—my sister—was never interested in acting.’
‘What about your daughter?’
‘She’s taken part in plays in school and her college. Then she received a few offers from film producers, but did not accept.’
‘What does she want to do?’
‘Go into journalism. She’s already started writing. She wants to be independent and have a career of her own.’
‘Do you suspect anyone of having stolen your necklace?’
‘No. I cannot help you at all, I am afraid.’
‘Did you see anyone leave their seat during the film show last night?’
‘No. I thought everyone was totally engrossed in the film.’
‘Thank you Mrs Biswas, no more questions for you.’
Suneela Biswas said goodbye and went inside.
Feluda turned to Mr Biswas once more.
‘I’d like to see Mr Som, if I may.’
‘Sure.’
Mr Biswas disappeared inside and sent Mr Som. Mr Som had shaved this morning, which made him look slightly less unsavoury. He sat on the small sofa opposite Feluda and lit a cheroot. I had seen him smoking a cheroot last night too. A pungent smell filled the room.
‘How long have you lived in this house?’ Feluda began.
‘About fifteen years. Shakuntala Devi herself had brought me here.’
‘Didn’t you mind having to depend on someone’s charity?’
‘I had very little choice in the matter, Mr Mitter. I had already crossed fifty. Arthritis affected my right thumb so badly that I could no longer paint. I had no money. If Shakuntala Devi hadn’t given me a home, I’d have starved out there in the streets. Of course I didn’t like having to depend on anyone. But Shakuntala and her family were very kind, and then young Prasenjit and Sheela also seem to be very fond of me. So now I don’t mind so much. I have got used to the idea.’
‘Don’t you have an income at all?’
‘Not really. Some of my old paintings sell occasionally, at very low prices. That brings me virtually nothing. I manage on the allowance Mr Biswas pays me every month. I have a room, and I eat with the family. Cheroots are the only luxury I allow myself, although I have cut down on them.’
‘Do you suspect anyone regarding the missing necklace?’
Mr Som remained silent for a few seconds. Then he said, ‘I don’t suspect any of the servants.’
‘Is the
re anyone else?’
Mr Som fell silent again. ‘Look,’ Feluda urged, ‘if you don’t tell me exactly what you think, it makes my job that much more difficult. You do want the necklace to be recovered, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well then?’
‘There is someone I am not sure of.’
‘Who?’
‘Prasenjit.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘He has changed such a lot. He doesn’t speak properly with anyone in the family, not even me. Perhaps he’s fallen into bad company. Perhaps he’s into drugs, or gambling . . . or something else for which he needs money. I know he hasn’t got a job, and the money he gets from his father is never enough. Sometimes he comes to me to borrow money, he’s that desperate. I’ve tried talking to him, to make him see reason, but I have failed.’
‘I see. Did you see anyone move or walk away when the film was being shown yesterday?’
‘No. My eyes never left the screen.’
‘All right, Mr Som. That’s all for now. Thank you very much, and could you please send Mary Sheela?’
Mr Som left in search of Sheela. She arrived in a few minutes. Dressed in a salwar-kameez, and devoid of jewellery, she looked the perfect modern young woman.
‘What were you doing, Sheela?’ Feluda asked her when she was seated.
‘I was writing an article.’
‘For a magazine?’
‘Yes, on how to decorate a room.’
‘Oh? Are you interested in interior decoration?’
‘Yes. I would like to become a decorator one day.’
‘Have you had any training?’
‘No, no formal training; but I have read quite a lot on the subject.’
‘Can you draw?’
‘A little. I learnt a few things from Uncle Sudarshan. He used to encourage me a lot when I was a child.’
‘How do you get on with your brother?’
‘I don’t. Not any more. He hardly ever speaks to me. Yet, once we were very close.’
‘Do you mind? Does this change in him upset you?’
‘It used to. Now I’ve grown accustomed to it.’
‘You did put the necklace back in its usual place, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, of course! And I replaced the keys.’
‘Do you have any idea how it disappeared?’
Sheela smiled, ‘No, how should I? You’re the detective!’
‘Yes, but a detective has to ask question to get at the truth. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
The bell rang before Feluda could speak again. Suleman opened the door and let Prasenjit in. He seemed slightly taken aback to see us, but recovered quickly.
‘Detection in progress?’ he sneered.
‘I was simply asking your sister a few questions. I’m glad you’re back because I’d like to do the same with you. Do you mind?’
‘Yes, I do. The police tried to question me, too. I didn’t answer any of their stupid questions.’
‘But I am not the police.’
‘That makes no difference. I am not going to open my mouth.’
‘Then you will automatically become a suspect.’
‘I don’t care. Suspicion alone isn’t enough to send anyone to prison, is it? Where’s the evidence? You have to find the necklace before you can say it’s in my possession!’
‘Very well, Prasenjit. If you’re not prepared to cooperate, there’s nothing we can do. We cannot force you to talk to us.’
Feluda rose. Lalmohan Babu and I followed suit.
‘Before I go,’ he said to Sheela, ‘May I please see the layout of your house?’
‘Certainly.’
Sheela took us inside. There was a dining room behind the living room. This was followed by Mr and Mrs Biswas’s bedroom, which had an attached bathroom. Connecting doors in their bedroom led to a room on either side, which belonged to Sheela and Prasenjit. These also had attached bathrooms. Mr Som’s room was next to Prasenjit’s.
We returned to the living room.
‘I am going to visit you soon with my autograph book,’ Sheela said.
‘You’d be most welcome,’ Feluda replied. ‘But please give me a call before you come. If you simply turned up at the hotel, I might not be in. By the way, could I please see your father again?’
Sheela went and called her father.
‘Have you finished?’ Mr Biswas asked.
‘Yes, more or less. Your son didn’t allow any questions, unfortunately.’
Mr Biswas shook his head regretfully. ‘I am sorry about that, Mr Mitter. Prasenjit is like that . . . I have almost given up on him.’
‘Never mind. I wanted to see you about something else. Do you think Mr Saldanha will be at his shop?’
‘Yes, I should think so. It’s only half past five.’
‘Could you give me his telephone number please, and tell me where his shop is?’
Mr Biswas tore a page off a small pad lying next to the telephone and quickly wrote down the shop’s address and phone number.
‘May I ring him from here?’ Feluda asked.
‘Yes, of course.’
Mr Saldanha himself answered the phone and told Feluda to go there straightaway.
‘There are two other people I have to see,’ Feluda said to Mr Biswas. ‘Your brother-in-law, Ratanlal and Mr Sukius. I think I’ll save the latter until tomorrow.’
‘Ratanlal lives in Frazer Road. Let me give you his address as well. The best time to get him is after seven o’clock.’
Six
I had no idea Saldanha & Co. in Hazratganj was such an old shop. Its threadbare look startled me.
Mr Saldanha was sitting behind a desk. The shop was going to close in fifteen minutes. There was no one except an assistant. Mr Saldanha smiled as he saw us arrive.
‘Welcome, Mr Mitter. Do sit down.’
We were offered three chairs.
‘I hope we haven’t caused you any inconvenience by coming here?’ Feluda asked.
‘Oh no, not at all. We’re about to close, anyway. You may ask me what you like; then when we’re finished here. I’ll take you to my house. You could have a cup of coffee and meet my wife.’
‘That would be very nice, thank you. I would like to ask your wife a few questions as well. You see, I have to speak to everyone who was present at the party.’
‘That’s all right. I don’t think she’ll mind.’
‘Very well. Let me begin with you. How old is this shop?’
‘Nearly seventy years. My grandfather started it. It was Lucknow’s first music shop.’
‘There must be other music shops now?’
‘Yes, there are two more, both owned by Goans. One belongs to de Mello, the other to Noronha. One of them is not far from here. Sadly, we have not been able to keep up with the times. You can tell that, can’t you, from the appearance of this shop?’
‘Are you saying that your business isn’t doing all that well?’
‘What can I say, Mr Mitter? It’s the age of competition, isn’t it? If I could get my son to join me, perhaps his young ideas would help. But he studied medicine, then went off to America. He’s earning a lot of money there, but his old Dad has to look after this old shop. I have a few faithful customers, so I do get by, but things have changed. No one respects simplicity and honesty any more. Everyone wants glamour.’
Feluda made sympathetic noises, then moved to his next question. ‘Do you have anything to say about the tragedy that occurred last night?’
‘I hardly know what to say. When that necklace went to my sister-in-law, Margaret—my wife—broke down completely. She loved that necklace and was bitterly disappointed it wasn’t given to her. And who could blame her? It was so extraordinarily beautiful . . absolutely priceless.’
‘You mean you agree that it was unfair of Shakuntala Devi to have given it to her younger daughter, even in the eyes of God?’
‘Yes. Why else would Pame
la suffer such a tragedy?’
‘But who could have taken it? Do you have any idea?’
‘No, Mr Mitter, I cannot help you at all in this matter.’
‘Are you aware that your sister-in-law’s son has fallen into bad company?’
‘I had guessed as much, yes.’
‘He is probably into drugs. He needs a great deal of money regularly.’
Mr Saldanha clicked his tongue regretfully. Then he said, ‘That may be so, Mr Mitter, but I cannot believe he’d steal and sell such a prized possession. No, that seems quite far-fetched.’
‘Did you see anyone go out of the room during the film show?’
‘No, but I saw Sukius come in.’
‘Thank you.’
It was time to close the shop. We got to our feet. When we reached Mr Saldanha’s house in his car, it was a quarter past six and quite dark. Like Mr Biswas’s house, it was a bungalow, but smaller in size. The drawing room appeared rather bare. Mr Saldanha obviously wasn’t as wealthy as his brother-in-law, and his wife not that keen on interior decoration.
‘Margaret, you have visitors!’ called Mr Saldanha. Margaret Susheela arrived a moment later. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ she said, smiling a little. But the smile did nothing to hide the look of exhaustion on her face.
‘Please sit down, Mrs Saldanha,’ Feluda said. ‘Perhaps you don’t know that Mr Biswas asked me to investigate this business of the stolen necklace.’
‘I had guessed.’
‘May I ask you a few questions in this regard?’
‘Yes, certainly.’
Mr Saldanha got up, ‘Let me go and get changed, Mr Mitter; and I’ll get us some coffee.’
He went inside. Margaret Susheela took a chair and looked at Feluda.
‘How long have you been married?’ Feluda began after a short pause.
‘Thirty-five years.’
‘Your son is in America, I believe. Do you have any other children?’
‘A daughter. She’s married. Her husband owns an apple orchard in Kulu. That’s where they live.’
‘What’s the difference in age between you and your sister?’
‘Just two years.’
‘Have you always been close?’
‘We were very close when we were little. We played together, wore similar clothes, went to the same nursery school.’